


Retreat

by unwillingadventurer



Category: Raffles - E. W. Hornung
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:15:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26420959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unwillingadventurer/pseuds/unwillingadventurer
Summary: Bunny has writer's block so Raffles suggests a countryside retreat.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	Retreat

Infernal words. Infernal and utterly incomprehensible smattering of words which were a sorry excuse for a sentence. That was what lay upon my parchment, along with ink stains, tea residue, scribbles and then me as I laid my head upon the paper— the last remnants of my sanity disappearing like a lost swimmer pulled under the depths of some fathomless ocean. I was drowning with no sign of rescue in sight. 

“My dear Bunny, you’ll pull your fur out,” Raffles said from the settee moments later, staring at me where my hands were now upon my head—my fingers gripping my hair, ready to tear it out strand by strand.

“You’d pull your hair out too, A.J, if you had written such a trite and sanctimonious article as I just have.” I scrunched the paper in my hands into a ball and tossed it over the other side of the room.

Folding up his newspaper, he approached me. “You need a break my dear fellow. You’re far too tense and tight.” He laid his fingers upon my shoulders and began to massage them in a soothing fashion.

I continued to let him massage me, relishing the feel of his strong fingers caressing my skin. “I have a deadline to do by next week,” I said, my words slurred with the pressure of the massage. “And several after.”

Suddenly, as if I’d said there was an inspector at the door, Raffles was on his feet and had darted across the room like a sleek black panther. He began pacing back and forth in front of the fire.

“What is it, A.J?”

“Hmm?” He flashed me a smile. “I have an idea. A way to get you feeling relaxed and it’ll give you all the inspiration you require to write the best that my very dear Bunny can write.”

“What is this idea of yours?”

“The perfect retreat, my rabbit. We shall burrow alone for the week in our own little warren, untouched by the foxes and wolves at our door.”

My eyebrow rose. “Why do I get the idea you’ve been cooking this up for a while?”

He placed his hand over his chest. “I’m wounded. I came up with the plan in this moment. But as you’ve said that, I’m reminded of a little place that would be perfect for our rest cure.”

“I’ll be working, not resting, A.J.”

“Yes, yes, you’ll write, I’ll paint. We’ll be two artistes expressing ourselves like two artistes who have never expressed themselves before.”

I put down my pen and got to my feet. “You know, you’re right? Maybe it would be good to change my surroundings, take in some country air, get away from the city.”

“A time of it we will have!”

“But writing only, A.J, nothing else.”

“Of course, my worrisome rabbit. Only the written word upon the page and the brush strokes upon the canvas and my kisses upon your cheeks. Pure art, pure bliss.”

“Not the art of crime then?”

“No.”

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Hmm.”

…

It was a mild spring that year and so I was able to wear thin trousers and my shirt sleeves rolled up as I sat at a desk by the window, looking out upon the views of the beautiful Yorkshire scenery. The cottage Raffles had secured us was almost too picturesque to seem real and I sighed contentedly as I put down my pen, realising I’d written two full pages of my article without pulling out a single strand of hair— simply instead basking in the views around me. We had been there several days, and in that time, Raffles had kept true to his word. We had been two artistes, shut away to work, talking only to one another about our creations. Though one of us was doing a lot more creating than the other.

I glanced over at him, taking in another stunning view— this time of his beautiful form and the wild black curls that tumbled across his forehead. He was standing next to a canvas in the corner of the room, half-undressed and attempting to paint the bowl of fruit in front of him. Unlike the bowl which was full of vibrant colourful fruit however, his canvas was completely devoid of paint.

“You haven’t done anything?” I said, a smile finding my lips.

He’d done not a single stoke. He was still standing in the same position as when I’d started my article, and despite the fact that he did look rather glorious standing in the way he was, it was amusing to me that for once I was achieving more than he.

“I have, Bunny, just theoretically.” He waved the paintbrush around, painting the air more than the canvas.

I walked over to his area of the room, reached down to his still-life tableau, and picked up an orange.

“Ah! Ah! Ah! I’ve set that up perfectly!” he hissed.

“But you’ve done nothing and if I recall our conversations, you hate still-life.”

“I do.”

“Then why do it?”

“Don’t question the artist’s mind, Bunny. It’s full of contradictions.”

“Don’t I know it.”

He sat down, huffing slightly. “You’re right. It’s all entirely wrong.” He picked up an apple from the bowl and took a big bite. “I’ll need to start over…at some point…when I’m able to.”

“A.J! I, on the other hand, have nearly completed my articles.”

“Well done Bunny, I knew this retreat would do wonders for freeing you from the shackles of the journalistic deadline. Now we shall have time for other pursuits.”

I gulped. “Pursuits?” 

I assumed his idea of pursuits did not align with my notion of pursuits.

“There’s a fine place across the way, a manor house laden with treasures.” He reclined on the leather settee and stared into the distance as if picturing all he was going to steal. 

“A.J! You said no crime!”

“I did but that was until this manor caught my attention. Oh Bunny, the loot we shall secure, the beauty of each piece we shall place in our wanting and dare I say needy hands. You do remember how awfully hard up we’re getting?”

“That’s why I’m writing my articles.”

“And that’s all well and good, Bunny, but we are used to a rather finer way of living and if we are to maintain such a life then we must be ready to work for it as it were.”

“I suppose this house cost a packet to rent.”

“If that’s what you wish to believe, Bunny.”

“Hold on, you did rent this property, didn’t you? It’s not like last time?”

He got up and I began to follow him around the room. I grabbed his arms and spun him around to face me. “This isn’t paid for is it? We’re not meant to be here.”

“Paid for? Alas no, however of course we’re meant to be here in an artistic sense. This house was made for us, Bunny. Never before has it suited two such people. It’d be a crime not to break in and stay here. No one else was using it. What a shame to let it go to waste.”

I had no argument so I picked up the orange again from the still-life and aimed it at him. “You promised.”

“I did not. I deny I promised anything. And just prey what are you planning on doing with that orange?”

He saw the glint of menace in my eyes and ran as I aimed it at his back. He was out of the room as I threw and instead of striking him, the orange instead went splat against the wall, leaving a gooey pulpy mess. If only I had the bowling prowess of A.J Raffles!

…

For some unknown reason, and like every other crime that preceded it, I agreed to our exploits the next evening if only to keep him quiet and only if he took me out for a grand lunch to compensate. He took me to an inn in the middle of the village and treated me to what the locals claimed was the best hotpot in the area. I had to take their word for it, I’d never had another.

Aside from the anxiety within me from our upcoming burglary, it was a very pleasant lunch. There was a wonderful atmosphere and it felt splendid to venture out of the cottage and immerse ourselves around the village and amongst the locals for the day. It felt as though Raffles and I had assimilated to that kind of life.

I wiped my mouth with my serviette. “Jolly good spread eh, A.J?”

“That it is. Easy on the onions though, Bunny. I have to be up close and personal to you tonight.”

I glanced around. “Voice down. You also have onions on your dish, you don’t want them then?”

“I don’t intend to leave an onion aroma at the manor house, no.”

I put my hand to my mouth, breathed, and then sniffed discreetly. “I think I’m alright.” I pushed back the remaining onions on my plate with my fork and wondered how it was only I who had to worry about onion breath and not he who had the same meal.

He leaned back in his chair and looked out of the window. “I must say, I could get used to living like this,” he said to my surprise.

“You, in the middle of nowhere, all the time?”

“It has its upsides.”

“And it’s downs. I can’t picture you laying roots somewhere so out of it.” I leaned over to him and whispered. “There’s also not many diamonds and Inspector Mackenzie’s lurking around here.”

“No, simply ghosts, wild animals and possibly Heathcliff and Cathy.”

I shuddered. “Don’t jest, A.J, we’ve got to walk across the wilderness tonight after you-know-what.”

“I shall be there to protect you.”

“And who shall be there to protect you?”

“You of course. I have every faith in you, Bunny. I rather think a change of scenery will do us both good. A moonlit walk afterwards one should think.”

“If you say so.”

“Bunny, you’re rather taking the sport out of it. You completed your writings did you not? All work and no play and all that. Where are your rewards for such efforts?”

“A scotch whiskey in my hand is all the reward I need.”

He laughed then and placed a piece of bread into his mouth. “Where would I be without you, Bunny?”

I didn’t respond, instead eating the rest of my meal in silence as I contemplated the evening events. The manor house was a little trek and so we headed off whilst it was still reasonably light, hiding a kit of change of clothes, lanterns and other such items to be hidden for a swift exit. Typical Raffles, steal from somewhere where there was no quick getaway.

So that’s where we found ourselves that evening, darkness upon us, waiting at the house ready for everyone to turn in for the night. Raffles had said it had been a sudden idea, of course I knew he was lying, after all, how else did he appear to know both the layout of the house and its grounds and also the nightly routine of its servants? He also seemed to know the direct and indirect route to the property as though he had walked the same route in recent days. So that had explained the random absences where he claimed he was taking a walk in the garden for inspiration. 

“When do we go in?” I whispered, shivering slightly in the evening air.

Raffles put on his mask and I followed suit, placing it on and moving amongst the bushes like we were wild animals in wait.

“The last light’s gone off in the upper house. The servants most likely have retired. Now’s a good time as any, Bunny.”

“I never asked. How did you know this particular house is laden with treasure?”

“A guess.”

“Guess?”

“Look at it, Bunny. Shouldn’t it be the type of house to be laden with treasure?”

“So, you haven’t been here before then?”

“Bunny, are you going to be argumentative all night?”

I folded my arms, not budging an inch until he spoke. “So, you have been here before? You came here on purpose, to have a peek, didn’t you?”

“Bunny, I never said I didn’t come here. It never escaped my lips. Now are we going in or not?”

“Was it the only reason you planned this retreat?”

He didn’t answer and instead pulled me by my sleeve to the back door of the property where he produced his burglar’s kit and set about opening the door. He worked at the lock for what felt like eternity but in reality, it was no time at all.

I was about to sigh with relief that we’d made it inside the house when I realised the door only got us into the garden. Raffles had us burgling some impregnable fort by the look of it, almost as though it were some grand castle with a keep and moat. No doubt some guards with archers would appear next, raining down arrows upon us rather than jewels.

“A.J, where to now?” I whispered, knowing full well we were heading upwards.

“A bit of climbing, I’m afraid, Bunny,” he said, squeezing my hand for reassurance. “Not to worry, it’s a simple ascent.”

After the climb up the small conservatory, I gulped as he began to climb up the bigger wall, finding footholds in it, but I was not such a great climber and so my attempt was fraught with wobbles and near calamities as my hands and body held tight and fast. When I neared the top, I thankfully felt Raffles’ gentle hands upon mine and he hoisted me up over the edge until we were standing on a balcony at the top, facing one another. I took a deep breath. He was grinning. The balcony led to a window where he began work on opening it.

“What a climb, eh Bunny? I say, your climbing is coming on a treat.”

I tried to speak but the cold air and my lack of breath muted me. By the time I felt better, Raffles was ushering me into the window and we found ourselves in a gloomy hallway, making our way in the dark to the room on the far side— the room I assumed contained the treasures that Raffles protested to having never investigated. For a man who claimed it was a spur of the moment thing, he knew the layout perfectly.

We gained access to the room and Raffles opened the safe with little difficulty so I was beginning to feel optimistic with our chances.

When he pulled out the jewels from the safe, I held my breath. As much as I protested, I admit that every time was still mesmerising— the way his white gloved hands held the sparkling items— the way it matched that sparkle of excitement in his eye. He slipped the case of jewels into his pocket and then handed me a smaller purse of the tiny items— but no less valuable. A shiver of excitement ran down my spine. 

“Ready to leave?” he said. “Think we’ll leave the way we came. It leads directly to the conservatory roof and onto the gardens leading to the forest at the back. We should be able to retrieve our things there and make our escape. Of course, it’ll take longer through the trees.”

I nodded in agreement and followed him to the window where he reached out and hoisted it up, and it seemed to rise at his touch. At that moment a light switched on and we spun around to be greeted with the face of a small dark-haired child standing near us by the window in his nightwear. 

“Are you angels?”

Raffles and I glanced at one another. We were dressed in all black so it was rather flattering that he thought such a thing.

“That we are,” Raffles replied. “And angels will grant you a reward if you go back to bed like a good little boy and close those eyes until morning.”

“Why are you wearing masks?”

We looked at one another again.

“You can’t see our faces,” I said quickly. “The light would be too bright. Quickly go to bed.”

We followed the boy into his room and watched as he jumped under the covers. The boy’s eyes were suddenly closed and Raffles lay a gold coin on the boy’s pillow before he mimed for me to re-join him in the hallway.

We made a sharpish get-away out of the window, abseiling as quickly as we could down the rope Raffles had secured on the way in. We had only just made the lower roof however when we heard voices coming from the bedroom and then a light was switched on in the hall.

“There’s a rope!” said a man’s voice.

“It’s the angels,” the little boy’s voice said but we heard no more after that as we climbed down the conservatory roof and away from the premises into the safety of the adjoining woodland, hiding deep in the shadows among the trees.

…

With the knowledge that the household were alerted to our presence, we could not take the moonlit stroll as Raffles had originally suggested and instead, we ran through the trees, darting in the darkness with only a lantern as our guide. Our clothes snagged on branches. Our feet stuck in the overgrown foliage. We struggled to hold onto our kit— it was all a rush.

“Bunny, this light is giving us away.”

I turned off the lantern and then felt Raffles’ hand upon mine.

“We can’t find our way to the road in this darkness,” I said.

“If only you, my dear Bunny, could see in the dark like your rabbit friends.”

“What shall we do?” I glanced around anxiously. I felt tired, achy, my body shivering. “Hide until morning? I was a good tree climber when I was a boy. Perhaps we should try upwards.”

“A novel idea, Bunny, if matters take that turn. For now, I think we shall wait and see where they go.” We sat down together on the rough ground, listening as the night owl called, and then the sounds of footsteps were heard in the distance.

We sat. We waited. We whispered.

“Climbed trees eh?” Raffles nudged me.

“Trying to escape the local bullies.”

“My poor Bunny. How very brave of you.”

“It was quite relaxing sitting up there. I could see all around the town and write verses as I observed people.”

He laughed and I would’ve joined him if not for the sudden noise of a gunshot! We both got low to the ground, bellies in the leaves.

“A.J, they’re shooting at us!”

He crouched down further and listened, turning on the lantern briefly and glancing around. “I don’t think that’s the search party. There seems to be a few men roaming about. You know, I think they’re on an illegal hunt.”

“Great! We’re being pursued by the manor house occupants and now some lunatics with rifles.”

“I assure you we’re not the hunter’s targets.”

There was another gunshot sending me instinctively atop of Raffles. “Not intentionally, maybe,” I squeaked. “Raffles we have to get out of here before we’re either under citizen’s arrest or shot.”

“You’re quite right, Bunny,” he said with a husky tone. “If you could roll off me so we could execute said plan, there’s a good chap.”

I did just that, helped him to his feet and we grabbed each other’s hands and darted forward, running together through a sequence of trees, completely losing our bearings and our focus. In the dark I nearly collided with several obstacles and through the bushes and thorns we must have appeared like simply two roaming creatures in the night. The next gunshot rang out and like a wild animal being hunted indeed, Raffles went down. I heard a groan as he landed at my feet.

“A.J!” I bent down to him.

“Got me in the shoulder I think,” he said. “Might find it darned difficult to move quickly now. You’ll have to leave me, Bunny. Get yourself to safety, go on, save yourself.”

“I’m not going to leave you here!” I cried.

It was as though we were at war then, I on the ground hovering over Raffles in the darkness, touching his wounded shoulder, blood all over my hands. He didn’t say much in those minutes but I could see his breath in the cold air and could hear the moans he tried to conceal. I made him comfortable among some leaves and then used my shirt sleeve to stem the flow of blood. Raffles’ eyes were closing and I kept talking to him to keep him awake. Then I thrust his body quite unexpectedly over my shoulders and lifted myself to full height. He was heavy, I’ll admit that, and indeed a struggle but I could see no other way of getting him to safety. It was with blessed relief when I found the road ahead and realised the cottage was close by. It was quite an incredible feat.

“I can walk now, Bunny,” I heard Raffles say and so I placed him back onto the ground and looked him over. He was worse for wear and clearly in pain but he seemed merry with it as if it were all a lark.

“A.J, are you alright?”

“Bit painful but I think it’s only a flesh wound.” He winced. “If we can get back to the cottage, we can look at it and sort it out.”

I carefully helped Raffles back to the property, every few moments glancing behind, making sure we weren’t being pursued by either the owners of the manor house or the careless poachers mistaking us for animals. When we were in the warmth of indoors and I had closed the door, I placed Raffles gently onto the settee and stroked his hair, brushing it from his eyes.

He looked up at me and smiled. “My hero, eh Bunny?”

…

Of all the things that happened in my adventures with Raffles, one such event I did not expect was to see him lying in a barn on a blanket with a veterinarian standing over him tending to his wound as if he was a prized cow. I didn’t want to ask how Raffles had managed to win over this vet to help him but one didn’t have to be a genius to work out that money, jewels and bribery had somewhat bought the silence. 

As we helped him to his feet, Raffles was smiling and he placed his arm around my shoulder so that I could assist him back to the cottage. 

Now forced to rest properly with no other pursuits, Raffles sat beside his easel, too in pain to lift his left shoulder. 

“You painting with your mind again, A.J?” I said.

I folded up my papers and bound them together— my articles now complete. The retreat had been helpful in one way or another. But I couldn’t help but think of Raffles in that night, how easily he could have been taken from me— how easily a night of daring adventurous dreams can turn to a nightmare in seconds.

He noticed my melancholy and asked me to sit with him on the settee, inquiring what was wrong.

“It was seeing you lying there on the ground, A.J, I thought…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. 

He tapped my hand. “All part of the risk of life, Bunny, but I’m sorry that it frightened you.”

“It frightens me that you need to take extra risks.”

“Well, not to fear, we have enough boodle to set us up for the summer and I promise I shall take it easy. And with your articles published, we shall have even more chance of celebrating in style. All in all, gunshot wound aside, I think it was rather a good retreat, don’t you?”

“Retreat being the apt word, A.J!”

He laughed and then shuffled close to me, reaching out his good arm toward my torso, his fingers wriggling in excitement. “Somebody needs a tickle,” he said, his eyes suddenly gleaming with menace. 

He knew how extremely ticklish I was, how it sent me red-faced, creased over, laughing manically. But he didn’t care and his fingers were under my ribs in seconds. 

I wriggled about, trying to escape him, laughing and writhing with tears of both joy and horror rolling down my cheeks. “A.J! I must retreat!”


End file.
